


bad for you

by blkpnk



Category: BLACKPINK (Band)
Genre: Blood and Injury, Bruises, Drug Use, F/F, Gen, Mild Smut, Swearing, Violence, bad girl!au, lisa has the thirst for both reader and rosé
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blkpnk/pseuds/blkpnk
Summary: You were the type who believed in “if it’s meant to be, it’ll happen” but that didn’t seem to be working out too well for you. The moment you practiced “if you want something, go get it” was the moment she came into your life.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> y/n = your name
> 
> re-edited and re-posted original series

You palmed a set of tarnished keys in your hand, belonging to your new apartment. Above you, you heard the faint ticking of time passing inside the empty convenience store.

This was your fresh start.

High school was a little over a year ago, and in that span of time, you had nothing to show for it. Nothing has changed. Your entire life has spun around you, the epicenter, dynamic while you stayed stagnant. Life was boring sitting on the bleachers while everyone else got to play.

And you were tired of it. You wanted something different, something new.

Which was exactly why you moved away from everything you knew. You managed to scrape by on the skin of your teeth, a change of scenery, a place of your own, and an odd job. The store owner was more than content with throwing you into the mess of things, running over rules and regulations, what your role entailed. Which appeared to be just about everything. Whatever, you would make decent money at an easy enough job. You were just happy that you somehow got what you wanted.

Not the whole package, but it would do for now.

Night fell as you counted change for a customer, handing the remainder back with a fake smile plastered on your face. They nodded and left the way they came, and you were alone again.  _Bored_ , again. You leaned forward on the counter, resting your chin in the curve of your hand, and blew hair out of your face. This shift wasn’t going to last much longer, you just had to make it to midnight. Then, you were expected to close and lock up shop, catch a bus back to your apartment, and start your routine over the next morning.

You wanted things to change, but the most you had accomplished was isolating yourself.

You were contemplating the effects of another Red Bull on how well you’d sleep tonight when there came the distant rumbling that could only be associated with a motorcycle, growing louder and ever nearer. Eyes closed, you prayed they wouldn’t come in and bother you during the last stretch of your shift. Couldn’t you just sit in peace and watch late night news until it was time to bail?

Apparently not, as the chime of the front door opening rang. The noise had already grown to annoy you. You swallowed your bitterness and prepared to put on that same fake smile again when you registered just the kind of group that was entering.

Leather jackets, studded joints. The dull thud of worn combat boots. Jovial laughter, a guy elbowing his friend roughly as they horsed around. And when they cast their attention on you, you almost cowered away. As you would have done in the past. They looked like thugs, and you were the only one in the store. Little, ol’ you. Some of the men towered in comparison, and the way one toyed with a toothpick between his teeth, eyeing you over, had you deciding these were not the kind of people you wanted to be alone with in the middle of the night. Except, you were.

A muscle in your jaw jumped as you clenched it shut, steeling yourself against your flight instincts. Before, you would have been the type to hide away and wait for them to leave, no matter what they did. It wasn’t your problem and you didn’t want to get involved. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn’t involve yourself with anything your entire life, which was why you had no experience to speak of. No notable friends, no direction after high school, and honestly? Barely a life worth living.

You didn’t want to be that scared, little girl anymore. The one who watched the world like it was a movie and wasn’t even a supporting character in it. Too content with your silence and trepidation. You moved away to start over, but you had to follow through with your plan. You had to do the one thing you hadn’t yet.

Go out of your comfort zone.

You stood your ground at the cash register, wincing out a sickly-sweet smile in response to the man still gazing at you over the candy aisle. It was countered with a mirthless chuckle, and he must’ve tapped his buddy beside him, because he too began staring at you. The hair on the back of your neck pricked at you, warning you, but you ignored it, glaring back into dark eyes crinkling with thoughts you didn’t want to know anyway.

The door chimed once more, and you inadvertently deviated your eyes.

To her.

Whoever she was, whatever she was doing with this wayward gang — there was one thing you knew for certain and that was just how beautiful she was. Strawberry blonde hair to stand stark against the weathered leather of her bomber jacket. Ripped jean shorts, fabric hanging in tendrils down her thighs, belonging to impossibly long legs that finished with clunky boots. In hand, she used a motorcycle helmet to bash her friend’s shoulder at whatever they had said.

You were staring and you couldn’t help it. You were staring so much that as she passed the register, she looked up, meeting your eyes. There must’ve been an expression written all over your face for the lopsided smile she gave you. At that, you felt your cheeks grow warm with a blush, and you almost caved your already weak resolve.

Almost.

Movement over her shoulder stole your gaze just as one of the unruly men pocketed some merchandise like he was merely helping himself to a five-finger discount. And without thinking, you sprang into action.

“Hey, you wanna maybe put that back?” you snapped rather rudely in his direction. You didn’t let the fact that it came out easier than expected rattle you.

The girl now in your peripheral stopped in her tracks, smile falling, turning to look at the person in question.

The guy shrugged, the ghost of a smile tweaking at the corners of his thin mouth. He glanced at his friend for confirmation, who only shook his bald head in faux innocence. “I don’t got nothin’.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t go around accusin’ people,” his buddy countered, snickering. The confrontation was making your chest all tight. “It’s bad for business, y’know.”

You weren’t sure why you did it, but you rounded the counter, striding past the girl and past the way it made your heart leap out of your chest, and right up to the guy. His eyebrows lifted in mild bemusement at your being forward, his smile in full force. Before, you would have turned tail by now. You hated that look on someone’s face, condescending and arrogant, like they had already won. At the present moment, it pissed you off. You found yourself inwardly praying that you wouldn’t stutter or make a fool of yourself.

“I know what I saw,” you stated. A hand jutted forward for his pocket and you added, “Give it back, and then you can leave.”

“‘I can leave?’” he repeated, laughing in your face. He smelled like cigarette smoke standing this close to him, and it made you want to gag with how heavy it was. No wonder he had no money to properly buy anything when all of it was spent on his vice. “What are  _you_  going to do?”

You opened your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t your voice that came out.

“Alright, cut it out.” Someone brushed past you, gently, in a way that wasn’t meant to disturb you. It was the girl with the strawberry blonde hair, and she reached up to grab the guy not so gently by the hair, yanking him down a peg, literally. “You’ve had your fun, now give it up. You’re being fucking stupid.”

She didn’t wait for him to reply, releasing her hold on him without care. There was a sound of discontentment as he reared back from the push, but he didn’t try to fight back, and with a roll of his eyes, he pulled out the couple of candy bars and a set of earbuds he had thieved. You realized your hand was still stuck out and he seized it, his fingers calloused against the back of your hand, slapping the items into your palm. The force shook you to the core, but you took a deep breath and kept from crumbling.

Without another word, he smacked his friend’s shoulder and the two of them left. You could hear them muttering slurs as they threw open the door.

“I’m sorry about that,” the girl said then, turning around to face you, tone much softer. All that confidence that you had built up to face the thief wobbled before her. Up close, you were hit with the whole impact of her beauty. Even as she spoke, you couldn’t stop looking at her supple lips, slightly redden with lipstick from hours ago. Or it was just the natural color of them. “Sometimes they forget how to behave in public. They’re good guys…  _mostly_.”

The accompanying laugh, low in her throat, did things to your stomach that you hadn’t felt before. But you weren’t responding, and she was doing that same lopsided grin at you again like she was in on some joke.

“Well, sorry again. I hope you have a good rest of your night,” she finished, nodding at a couple stragglers inside the store. Together, they all began to file out, and with them, the anxiety of the whole scenario. In its wake, you were left with this sensation of elation, of actually standing up for yourself. Maybe that was what gave you a short burst of courage, because as the girl was leaving the store, you finally spoke up.

“Who should I be thanking for tonight?”

A pause, hand holding open the door, and then she looked over her shoulder. Smirking. “Rosé,” said she, and not without giving you a last glance over, and leaving you with a wink.

That wink was all you could think about while you laid wide awake in bed that night.

 

* * *

 

A series of days trickled by, uneventful. The girl, Rosé, almost felt like a distant memory at this point with hardly anything to remember her by. It was much shorter than you recalled, the entire store visit lasting no more than a handful of minutes. You weren’t paying that much attention; you had just wanted to go home. All you could think about was that lopsided smile, the hint of…  _something_  behind it. It was like she knew something about you right from start.

Whatever, you couldn’t ponder about it anymore or it was going to drive you crazy. Instead, you contented yourself with thinking about how her long hair must feel so silky. How nice her voice was once you thought about it, all milk and honey. How there was that trace of a threat still in her eyes when she faced you, only for it to disappear when she addressed you. It was sexy, you had to admit, and you wanted to hit yourself for being the stereotypical girl who was attracted to the bad guy.

The sound of a pen clicking over and over filled the void inside the convenience store. It was located somewhat on the outskirts of the large city you were trying to get familiar with, and the people that would come by either knew about it previously or were travellers. The store was growing old, if you were being honest. The walls had water stains, the shelves were due for the garbage and sank under the weight of its property, and the television set was a bulky son of a bitch that had a handle at the top for you to carry around if you so wished. Yet, it did well enough that the owner could pay you worth your while, and that’s all you cared about.

In time, perhaps you could even appreciate the antiquity of it all.

A customer passed through the doors, headed for their usual. After a short wait, they came to the counter, head bowed as they perused the lotto tickets that were displayed beneath the glass under your hands. You conversed absently with them as they mused over which ticket they’d buy, and you didn’t bother to look and see who had also entered just then, the bell clinking their arrival.

“I think I’ll buy one of these…” the customer finally said, finger pressing against the glass. You shuffled through some tickets in the stash behind the counter, selecting a few of the types they had picked.

Ringing up the tickets, you informed the customer of the price, and accepted the bills as they were handed to you. The register clanked open, allowing you to then sift through the money, and placed the bit of leftover change into their hand, thanking them as customary.

The customer turned, leaving the counter.

Behind them stood Rosé.

Your reaction was simultaneous — you rooted to the spot, your mouth dried, and your brain short-circuited.

Today, Rosé gifted you with a mesh top with only a black bralette underneath, and you took note of the way the fishnet had ripped on her shoulder, hanging slightly. She was too close to the counter to see the rest of what she somehow managed to look grunge chic, but that didn’t matter, because she was talking, and you were forgetting to respond again.

“Did I smudge my eyeliner?” she was teasing, idly brushing at a spot beneath her eye.

You shook your head and forced yourself to say something. “No, you look nice.” Wait, not that.

That low chuckle again, like she knew she had you wrapped around her finger already. You would be totally happy with that… if you weren’t trying this new thing of not letting yourself be easily swayed by what happened around you. Even if this girl had somehow already gotten to you, you were out to prove to  _yourself_  that you could take control for once. That you didn’t have to be stuck in the same old life where nothing happened because you had no agency.

“What can I get for you, Rosé?” you asked, enjoying the way her name rolled off your tongue. You tried to appear nonchalant, even allowing a faint smile to grace your lips. You didn’t miss the way she glanced at them, and you privately celebrated your small victory.

“Well…  _Y/N_ ,” she started, taking a second to purposefully look down at your nametag your boss made you wear. Your heart fluttered. “I’d like some Luckies, if you got them.”

“Some what?” you blurted out, blindsided.

Rosé laughed again. “Lucky Strikes, the cigarettes? I know some places don’t sell them, but I figured I’d try here.”

 _Cigarettes_ , you thought disdainfully,  _everyone’s got to have a flaw_. There was a puzzled look on Rosé’s face when you then turned around and momentarily browsed the cigarette selection you had at your disposal. After a beat, you found them, and reached up to take a pack of them down.

You sat them on the counter, and Rosé’s fingers brushed yours as she asked, “What was that look for?”

“What look?” you replied earnestly, the words coming out quickly at the contact.

“You gave me a weird look when I asked for the cigarettes,” she explained, smirking. “What, don’t like them?”

“Actually, no,” you honestly responded. You shrugged a shoulder, “Never really been a fan of them. I think there’s more to not like about them than anything else.”

As you spoke, a strange expression crossed Rosé’s face, and you feared you said too much, upsetting her. Even after you stopped talking, she didn’t say anything, and didn’t remove her hand or the cigarettes from the counter. Now you fucked up. “Sorry, I don’t mean to —”

“No, don’t apologize,” Rosé interrupted, and you were relieved to see the crooked smile you had been thinking about for days. And some nights. “I’m glad you don’t like them. They’re seriously bad for you — make you smell bad; your teeth get all yellow… stuff like that.”

“You don’t look so bad,” you said without thinking. Again. You wanted to slap your forehead, but Rosé chuckled, ducking her head the slightest bit. She acted like she wasn’t complimented all that often, and the sudden thought made you sad. There was so much to admire and the idea that no one was telling her that was a disservice to everyone.

“Well, I try,” she said, taking the cigarettes off the counter. In their place, she set down a couple bills, and before you could input the amount into the machine, she was speaking again. “Don’t bother. It’s for you.”

“I can’t do that,” you reluctantly declined with a shake of your head, pushing the money back. Black fingernails scratched at the counter as she stopped you from rejecting the money.

“Think of it as a tip, for the advice.” Rosé winked at you again, and damn it if your heart didn’t speed up.

Disappointment flooded your entire being when Rosé turned back and started for the door. What was it that made you want her to stay? You barely knew her, and she only got your name today. For all you knew, she could be just like the guys she ran with: good for nothing except trouble. Yeah, you wanted a different path than the one you had been treading your entire life, but you didn’t want to go down the wrong one just for the hell of it.

“Cigarettes are bad for you!” you called after her, just like the other night.

Rosé didn’t bother looking over her shoulder as she neared her exit. But she still replied, and it rattled you to the core, just like the bell as she left.

“Maybe I’m bad for you.”

 

* * *

 

_Maybe I’m bad for you._

What Rosé said had stuck with you for days.

Did that mean she was going to come back? Did that mean you were right, and she was nothing but ill will for your future? Did that mean she liked you like you liked her?

You spent an entire night thinking about it. Realizing you did feel…  _something_  for her. There was no one else like her that you had met. No one that so instinctually provoked you to feel confused and dazed and excited and apprehensive and  _fuck_ , just everything. It was all just a big mess in your head, and you stared up at the darkened ceiling of your small apartment, churning inside your mind. Why was it like this? You had only met her twice now and it was not enough. You wanted more. You wanted to know her.

You just didn’t know where to begin. How to contact her. How to show without showing that you wanted to… you didn’t know. And so, you tossed over and buried your head in your pillow and forced yourself to sleep.

Today was a new day. And you were at work. At the very least, it was a different shift than usual, one where you would be let off at a reasonable time. You might even be able to grab a bite to eat after work instead of scarfing down microwave meals and then going to bed.

It was busier during the day, you noted. Which was welcoming, allowing a reprieve from your overactive head from thinking about things that would lead you nowhere but distracted and unreliable.

“Got any plans for this evening?”

Your co-worker, a slack-off of a guy with a nice enough personality, asked you but not without taking his eyes off his cellphone game. Lame.

“Nothing but something to eat at someplace nice,” you informed. You were actually excited about it. You didn’t get to go out very often even if it was just by yourself. You swept some dust into the broom butler, attempting to look busy. You had been working since early this morning, while your co-worker had only shown up about an hour ago. He would ultimately end up the night shift, your usual gig. You looked at the clock to see just how close freedom was.

“Oh, so you got a date?” he asked, his eyes flitting from the screen. Apparently, this was slightly more important than his phone.

“Don’t need one,” you countered, pleased with yourself at the confidence. “I just wanna find a nice place with good food, maybe even make it a regular pit stop.”

“’Cause you’re new,” he added, nodding. His foot jiggled from its prop up on the counter, laces slapping the side of his sneakers. “We should go out sometime, I can show you around.”

 _You’re going to have to look away from your phone for more than five minutes for that to happen_ , you thought. You didn’t respond, and he didn’t seem to be too bothered by it. You rolled your eyes and moved to a new area to sweep.

Cleaning up the last of your duties, you were finally able to leave your shift. You entered the bathroom to change and sighed in happiness when you took off the tacky polo you have to wear for the job. Your favorite grey t-shirt was much more comfortable to wear. Shoving the polo into your backpack, you left the bathrooms and headed for the front, snatching up a Red Bull as you were about to leave.

“I thought you didn’t have a date,” your co-worker snorted from behind the counter.

“What?” you said, brows furrowed, and he gestured his head toward the front of the store. His thumbs continued tapping the screen of his phone as you left.

Stationed directly in the middle of the lot was a jet-black motorcycle, glinting in the evening sunlight. Leaning against the seat was none other than Rosé herself, arms crossed and not without that signature smile you were growing to love. You didn’t move as you gazed over her, marvelling at how she could ride a motorcycle when wearing a skirt that mimicked a school-girl uniform. You pushed away accompanying dirty thoughts at the skirt, resisting the blush threatening your face. She had to be waiting for you.

“Got any plans this evening?” Rosé uncannily repeated the same question your co-worker had asked you.

“I’m guessing you already made them for me,” you said, walking just close enough to hear each other. You didn’t want to be that presumptuous, but again, there was no other reason for her to be here. If she wanted her special cigarettes, she would have just gone inside for them.

“You guessed correct,” the red-blonde said, winking. Everything was her signature move, but it fucking worked. You weren’t able to stop the flashback of your prior self in the way you avoided her eyes, brushing away a bit of hair that wasn’t there. When you did look at her again, there was that amused but curious expression on her face, the same that she had when you told her you didn’t like her vice. As if she noticed something you did that she hadn’t quite chalked up.

“C’mon, get a move on.” Rosé reached over to beside the back seat of her motorcycle, revealing another helmet that had been strapped to the side. She held it out for you, but you didn’t take it as you glanced at the vehicle. “What, never been on one before?”

“Uhm… no.”

This was the start of something different you wanted. Part of the reason you were so boring was because you didn’t take risks. Sitting here, wondering if Rosé  _really_  was bad for you, why you had never ridden a motorcycle — it was time to just say fuck it.

“First time for everything,” you hummed, smiling and finally accepting to helmet.

Rosé gave a breathy laugh, shaking her head softly so that her gorgeous blonde hair flew across her face and gave you the desire to brush it away. “Just climb on up behind me.” You did as she said, trying not to seem as awkward as you were. It was surprisingly comfortable, the seat underneath you, but then you were faced with where to put your hands to keep steady. Rosé chuckled again, sitting forward now. “Just hold onto my waist. I promise I showered this morning.”

 _Don’t say that_ , you internally groaned. The thought of Rosé, naked, probably with a banging body and all wet had you on the fast track to hot and bothered. You were thankful for the helmet that you slid over your features, insulation gripping your head securely, able to hide the blooming blush. It didn’t help, however, that next, you had to actually hold onto her. The first time you would ever touch her. What a strange thing to think about, but it was true. The two of you hadn’t even shaken hands or hugged, yet, you were about to hold onto her as she drove you God knows where on a badass motorcycle.

You placed your hands on her hips and swore you felt a spark ignite at the contact. The next thing you noticed was how remarkably slim her waist was, hidden underneath loose garb. All that was thrown aside the second she started up the vehicle, an aggressive rumbling vibrating you to the bone, the engine alive in your ears even through the safety of the helmet. It belonged to the same group of motorcycles you recognized that first night, and now you were given the chance to actually ride one of them. How quickly you had ended up here when it never occurred to you before.

In front of you, Rosé held onto her helmet a second longer, turning a bit in her spot to look at you. The angle of her face, her profile, was stunning, and even if she asked if you were all ready and if you were okay, the most you could do was nod. There wasn’t much you could hear over the sound of the vehicle anyway. A flash of a smile, pretty white teeth for someone who smoked, and then she was tugging on her helmet. A hand gripped the throttle, giving it a twist and revving the engine, and you found your fingers curling into the material of her skirt. It rode up a bit on her thighs, and you were happy to see a bit of what appeared to be spandex, black, underneath. Happy, because it meant no one else would be getting a show. Why you felt so possessive, you had no clue.

Your hands on her hips quickly became your arms wrapped around her as she peeled out of the parking lot. A scream stuck in your throat, too surprised to make a sound, as she cut across lanes of traffic, right past moving cars, and headed directly into the city. It was swiftly obvious that she was a practiced rider, weaving in and out of the lines with ease and fluidity. She didn’t seem to mind the fact you were pressed against her back now, arms clenched at her sides, hands balling up the lapels of her leather jacket. If you weren’t so scared, you would have paid more attention to the fact of how close you were, how warm she felt even through the clothes, and just how amazing this all was.

No. Instead, you were praising anything that listened to you that she couldn’t see your face. How the fuck she was driving a motorcycle was lost on you. Your heart thudded dangerously against your ribcage each time she leaned a little to each side. She was so small against your frame that you worried you would break her, but she never once showed it disturbed her or her directing. She must have forgotten to tell you where to place your feet, but you managed to find the pedals, pressing your heels down so hard you feared you’d break them. They never gave, but your mind wouldn’t stop spinning.

The dying light of the evening glared from behind, shining off the glass of the cars you passed and the buildings you soon became swamped in. Even within city limits, she hardly slowed. What about cops? Apparently, they didn’t matter. A yellow light, on the verge of red, meant that Rosé should speed up, and she did, narrowly avoiding a car turning the corner into the same lame. A horn blared at the back of your skull, but all it did was drive a smile across your face.

This was amazing.

There was no keeping track of the streets or the landmarks that you passed. Rosé knew where she was going and there was no telling her otherwise. You trusted her. That sudden revelation was jarring, but it was true. You trusted Rosé because she had never given you a reason not to. The lip of a manhole covering caused a slight bump in the ride and your grip on her jacket slipped. The flat of your hand pressed against her stomach now, and you might just die of embarrassment at how intimate the touch was.

A hand reached down to squeeze your thigh. She was checking on you and your heart danced along to the jagged rhythm of her fingertips on the inside of your knee. You didn’t move your hand, allowing yourself this small pleasure. Underneath your palm, you felt subtle muscle flexing as she maneuvered the streets. There was a certain art to driving a motorcycle you decided. And you liked it.

Altogether too quickly, the drive came to an end. For once, Rosé slowed down, gliding into a dank alleyway. Dirty water sprayed up against the sides of a brick building and a battered wooden fence until you came upon a small lot. A few motorcycles not unlike Rosé’s, as well a car or two, sat in the space. Rosé came to a halt in a spot near the back door, and you forgot to take a look at the place you had arrived at, now that you were behind the establishment. It was a bit sketchy…  _a lot_  sketchy, but you didn’t entertain the idea that Rosé was about to murder you and dump you in a Dumpster.

The blonde let her legs down to balance the motorcycle, hands releasing the handles to smooth down her skirt that had flown up around the top of her thighs during the ride. It was a habit that had been practiced many times. Even with a motorcycle, it didn’t seem that Rosé was going to give up wearing whatever she wanted.

“How was it?” Rosé asked the second she removed her helmet. Her hair was in disarray, but it suited her, and just a run of her fingers through it had her looking wild and so god damn attractive.

You pulled off your helmet, taking your first deep breath since you got on. But you couldn’t stop smiling, and even if you hadn’t said anything yet, she was gazing at you with something you couldn’t quite read in her eyes. She laughed a wonderful sound.

“C’mon, I’ll help you off,” she said, swinging artfully off her ride without letting it go and toppling you. She toed the kickstand and then held out a hand for you. Butterflies swarmed your stomach and you swallowed them as you took her hand.

Smooth skin, fingers tightening around you as she assisted you off the back. It was surprising to find that your legs were wobbly, jittery like you had one too many energy drinks. It was the adrenaline from the ride, and you laughed under your breath at how incredible it all was.

“Seriously, did you like it?” she pried, brow lifted. Now you noticed the eagerness in her. She truly wanted to know if you had enjoyed yourself, or if she had made a mistake in taking you on a ride like that. Being honest, it was a bit too much too soon…

“It was great,” you said despite yourself, lingering in her hand a moment longer before regrettably pulling away. Rosé grinned, and you would say anything to see her like that.

She took your helmets and assured you they would be safe on her motorcycle, snapping the straps to the side like they had been before. “I have some people I’d like you to meet,” she said, opening the back door and waving for you to follow. It didn’t look too welcoming by the sight of the darkened portal, but again, you ignored your gut that told you to leave and instead followed her inside.

As it turned out, it was a bar. You heard before you saw the pool tables, the cues clacking against the pool balls, ricocheting off the borders. A jukebox bleated out classic rock in a corner, and since it was still early, there weren’t too many patrons enjoying their pints of beer at various tables around the space. It was quite dark, lighting apparently not needed. Bare light bulbs hung from a strand along the moulding above the bar, the only real area you could comfortably see. The bar was stocked full, but upon closer inspection, there wasn’t anything you would get at some high-rise fancy club. Jack, Jim, and José had a monopoly here.

Behind the counter, a girl with white blonde hair and blunt bangs looked up from absently wiping at her station, and a wide grin split her face. A glint of metal and you noticed the labret piercing on her bottom lip.

“Rosé!” she greeted, her voice cute and light in comparison to the rag-tag bar. Eyes shifted over to you and the smile melted into something more lecherous. “Who’s your hot date?”

The hand that met the small of your back almost made you stumble.

“This is Y/N, and yes, she’s  _my_  date,” Rosé emphasized, guiding you toward the girl at the bar. She gestured for a bar stool, and you thanked her under your breath, too out of place to act like you knew what you were doing. The bartender didn’t stop her speculation of you, eyes roaming over your face and what she could see of your body. “Y/N, this is Lisa, one of my close friends.”

“ _Best_  friend, jerk,” Lisa corrected and glared over her shoulder, turning to grab a bottle of bourbon. Two tumblers were set on the bar counter, and she poured a generous amount of alcohol into each, sliding them forward. “On the house.”

“You’re too kind,” Rosé mocked, smirking before taking her glass and throwing it back. It was like nothing to her, sliding down her throat, a throat you couldn’t help imagining kissing the length of now that it was exposed. Then she was setting the glass back down, settling into her seat next to. Your date, you remembered.

It was a date.

“Don’t like bourbon?” Lisa poked, leaning forward on crossed arms at you. She really was cute, in a roguish sort of way. There seemed to be a constant amusement to her expression, like everything was funny to her. Out of the friends of Rosé’s that you had met, you  _definitely_  liked Lisa the best.

“Never tried it,” you admitted. With that, you reached forward and took the glass, trying a sip. It was fucking strong and you pushed the back of your hand against your mouth to stop the cough desperate to escape. Lisa giggled, taking back the glass.

“Here,” she said, dropping a couple ice cubes into it and then handing it back. “Let it sit, it’ll water it down so it won’t be too strong.” At Rosé, “I like her already.”

“I know,” Rosé said to no one in particular, and you weren’t sure if the blush on your cheeks was from the strong alcohol on the back of your throat or the way Rosé had been talking about you since you arrived. Her bar stool whined slightly as she angled toward you. “You hungry? They have some great food here, if you like burgers and stuff like that.”

“Yeah, I could eat.”  _A horse_ , you thought. You were starving, and your original plans entailed chowing down on some food not so lady like. Not that it would be a problem here. Behind you, you saw a couple guys throwing fries at each other, attempting to land them in open and waiting mouths. When they missed, raucous laughter filled the bar.

It was a shock to the spine when you recognized one of the men in the back as the guy that had harassed you at the convenience store. Before he could see you staring, you turned back around. This was all going to be okay as long as he stayed as far as away as possible and you forgot all about his existence.

Lisa saw it all, and she gave a curious glance toward the last tables to spot the guy. Then she rolled her eyes, leaning to you again with her chin propped on her hand. “That guy’s an idiot. Don’t worry about him, though — he’s all bark and no bite.”

“A lot of the guys here are,” Rosé chided, a new glass in hand. It didn’t look like she was going to throw this one back as quickly as the first.

“A lot of them,” you mused. “But does that mean all of them?”

At that, they both paused, and then Lisa shrugged noncommittally. “I mean, there has been a couple that have been arrested for one charge or another, not gonna lie. And I’ve had to break up more than my fair share of bar fights here.”

“Hope I’m not here for one of those,” you muttered, sculling the ice cubes in your bourbon.

“Don’t worry,  _I’ll_  be there to protect you,” Lisa purred, a hand crossing the bar to tickle along yours on your glass. You froze, not sure how to react. Lisa was beautiful, no other way to put it, but —

“I’m betting you didn’t think it would be from  _me_ ,” Rosé ripped up the moment. Dare you say it sounded like she was on the brink of jealousy, and to prove your point, an arm slung around your shoulders, jarring you free of Lisa’s touch.

Lisa’s laugh rang out pure and spirited, backing away from the bar. “Oh, shut up, Rosie. You know you’re my main girl. If only you had fallen for me!” She twirled behind the bar, her oversized leather bomber jacket billowing like a cape. You wanted to question what she meant by that, and then ask about why Rosé’s face had gone blank for a split second, but it was all blown over as Lisa grabbed a bottle of Jack and slammed it down on the bar, loud enough to grab everyone’s attention.

“Shots on the house! If you don’t take one, you’re a motherfucking pussy!” she shouted.

At once, anyone that had been in the bar was joining the din of loud voices and crowded around you at the counter. An elbow jabbed you in the ribs, hard enough to bruise, but Rosé was there to sidle you away. You were thankful for the hand that was on your hip, a finger hooked in your belt loop. Even when you were out of the mess of rowdy drinkers ready for their shots, Rosé didn’t let go. You chanced a glance at her and the eyes that stared back said so much at once that you couldn’t read it at all.

“You two! Take your shots!” Lisa snapped at you, shot glasses of amber liquid sliding and spilling toward you.

“Jennie is going to kill you!” Rosé called with a mischievous smile. Lisa shrugged and then upended the bottle over a thug’s open mouth.

“Cheers,” Rosé said softly to you. You took the shot, clinking it against hers, and didn’t break eye contact until you were forced to tilt your head back, hoping it would go down easy.

 

* * *

 

Now you knew why the bar was so dark.

Your vision swam, a giddy smile on your face that you couldn’t shake. Just looking at the lights above the bar ached, an indication of the hangover you’d have to deal with tomorrow.

Rosé leaned over the edge of the pool table, skirt hiking up so you could openly stare at the smooth expanse of her thighs. You wanted to know what else lied beneath it.

“Motherfucker!” Rosé’s opponent swore angrily, throwing her cue stick against the wall. You laughed whereas you might’ve jumped at the noise. Rosé sunk her last two stripes in one fell swoop, miraculous for how much she had drank. Except, you couldn’t tell how much she had drank. You thought you had kept up pretty well with her, yet, she didn’t behave nowhere near as drunk as you. No stumbling, no slurred words, and that perfect smirk that drew up just one corner of her plump lips. Lips that you wanted to kiss and bite and —

“Hey!” You spun around on your stool to the voice behind you at the bar. A little too quickly but you didn’t fall off at least.

Lisa had a guy by the collar of his jacket, yanked over the bar so that he was off kilter. An expression you hadn’t seen all night on her face, she growled something at him that you couldn’t hear. It took you a couple seconds to catch up, and then your smile faltered. It was that guy from the store, and his dark eyes flitted to the side. At you.

Someone touched your arm and you started in your seat unexpectedly. It was only Rosé, brows knitted in concern. She glanced between you and Lisa with the guy, who then jerked away from her grasp. A roll of his shoulder to fix his disheveled clothes, he smirked at you, winking. It was a wink that you did not appreciate, unlike Rosé and Lisa.

“Time to leave,” Rosé scowled, taking you by the elbow and lifting you out of your seat. The bar swayed in your head and you had to grab onto her to stay steady. She said something but you missed it, clutching her shirt.

“What’s the matter?” the guy spat, arms out like he wanted a fight or something. He took a step forward and you cowered against Rosé. So much for that confidence you had lately. “Someone a lil’ tipsy? Need someone to take  _real good_  care of you for the night?” There was a gross gesture that you looked away from, not wanting to become sick from it.

“Shut the fuck up, Jason,” Rosé barked. The tone was one you didn’t like and didn’t want to hear again from her. “Go have another drink and black out in a ditch somewhere.”

Rosé didn’t wait for a response, dragging you out the back. It happened too quickly and you passed the threshold into the dark lot, a single streetlamp providing weak light, then tripped. Rosé caught you effortlessly, hoisting you back onto your feet. Her arms felt like they were everywhere on you, and normally, you would have been thrilled. If you weren’t so drunk, and if someone guy hadn’t just propositioned you.

Somehow, you were placed on the back of the motorcycle. Rosé situated herself in front of you, and without your inhibitions, you didn’t care that you pushed all your weight on her back. But she didn’t even bow beneath you, sturdy and grounding you. She asked you something about an address, the words fluttering through one ear and out the other. Your mouth moved on her jacket, the faint taste of leather on your tongue. It was wet out; you could feel it clinging to your skin. When the motorcycle started up, it was much farther away than you expected it to be. Shouldn’t it be louder? A hand seized yours, drawing them around Rosé’s body, and then you felt skin. Soft, warm skin against your fingertips. You couldn’t move your hands very well, just your fingers against her skin, and what felt like an elastic band. In the back of your mind, you knew you had voluntarily slid your hands down the front of her skirt, just a little.

The ground gave way, and you clenched your eyes shut. You were moving too fast; it was all too much to comprehend.

It was very dark.


	2. Chapter 2

“ _Fuuuck._ ”

Light slatted through the blinds of your bedroom. You  _think_  it was your bedroom.

Cracking your eyes, you groaned again, the feeble morning light still too strong for your sensitive eyes. Yup, it was your bedroom. Which was strange because you couldn’t remember how you got there. Why did you feel so gross?

Rolling in your sheets, you blinked at the Tylenol sat on your nightstand beside a bottled water. For a moment, you couldn’t understand how it got there. Then it slowly dawned on you.

Rosé.

You sat up quickly, flinching at the onslaught of pain in your head. But you wanted to know if she was still there, in your apartment. With you. A scan around the room proved she wasn’t anywhere to be seen. You popped a couple Tylenol and chugged some water before getting up and heading into your small living room.

Where she couldn’t be found.

 _That’s okay_ , you reasoned. It was probably for the best anyway. Last night was a mess and it was guaranteed that you made a fool of yourself. Now you’d never be able to see her again, not after that. They probably noted that you didn’t quite fit in with their people, couldn’t handle your liquor like they could, just generally wasn’t what they expected. At least, that’s what you thought about it. Well, it was fun while it lasted. Now you had to pick up the pieces of your heart you felt chipping away at the thought of not seeing her again.

What a horrible first… and last date.

You sunk into your couch cushions, sighing with relief at knowing you had the day off and could recuperate from your hangover in peace. Sipping your water, you turned on the TV for something to occupy your mind, distract you from your embarrassment, and surfed the channels before that too bored you.

A chime from your bedroom resulted in yet another groan. You pinched the bridge of your nose as you stood up, skulking into the room and grabbing the damned device.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘

It felt like you were going to fall down. It was as though your hangover dissipated. It  _hadn’t_ , but you were so ecstatic that you could forget about it. A smile spread across your cheeks, and you opened your phone to the text message.

There were already several messages waiting for you, and you swore under your breath when you realized just how late in the day you slept in. No wonder she tried multiple times to get a hold of you.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
ur key is hidden behind ur apartment plate btw sleep well!!!

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
i dont wanna be THAT girl but can u text me when u wake up???

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
ok but seriously r u alive

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
i know where u live & if u dont text me back soon im coming over

That last message was the most recent, and as much as you wanted her to come back, to apologize for everything last, and to maybe play up the hangover so she could coddle you, you didn’t want to trouble her.

You  
Yeah yeah I’m awake but definitely not kicking

You sat back down on your couch with much more enthusiasm than you had just a couple minutes ago. Legs balled up under you, you waited for the next message. It came quickly.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
u shouldnt try to drink as much as me next time 😉

You  
Nice contact name btw, really captures your character

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
actually i put my number in & u told me it was boring so i had to put some emojis on

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
u legit forced me

You  
I regret nothing

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
thats surprising

Oh god, she was mentioning last night. You picked at the collar of your shirt — which you don’t remember changing into — and hid your sheepish smile as you continued typing.

You  
Yeah… about that

You  
I’m sorry about… anything that I did, really. I was really drunk

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
dont be!!! you were hilarious actually & i had a great time

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
especially when u put ur hands down my skirt 😉

You stared down at the words on your screen and felt the color drain from your face. You did what? Now that you thought about it, you remembered the stumbling idiot you were as she dragged you out the back of the bar, how she piled you onto her motorcycle, and how even though you leaned against her back with all your weight, she still wanted you to hold onto her.

And yes, you did put your hands down her skirt. She grabbed your arms to make sure you would hold on and you took the initiative to warm your hands in the space beneath the waistband of her skirt and whatever shorts she had underneath.

This time, you did smack your forehead for real, and then regretted the action as it sent an agonizing pulse through your skull. The hangover was still there alright.

You  
Wow. I went right for the money, didn’t I? 🙈

You  
And after how you nice you’ve been. I didn’t properly thank you for the drinks last night. I mean… you did pay for them, right???

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
lisa paid for them lol were friends with the owner & jennie was pissed that she blew like 200 last night on free shit

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
besides that dont mention it 😘

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
thank u for letting me treat u right

The text had you halting again. It was such a strange thing to say. Again, you thought about how she reacted to your compliments and how she seemed to brush them off, like she didn’t know how to respond at all. Like no one told her how beautiful she was. Now this? She was thanking you for letting her be nice to you.

It made you sad all over again. There was something you didn’t know about Rosé and it was important. But you had gotten this far, and you knew one thing for certain.

You were hooked and there was no going back.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
ur different

You didn’t have much of a chance to respond, but there she was already texting again.

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
i sound totally weird saying this but ur different & i like that

rosè 😈 🚬 😘  
ur not like anyone ive met before

There wasn’t a whole lot you could respond with, and if you could, you would just send her the blush you felt spreading up your neck and across your cheeks. So she did like you. The same way you like her. It wasn’t all in your head, a game some pretty and free-spirited girl was trying to play on you.

You  
I could say the same for you, Rosé

 

* * *

 

Rosé never responded after her last series of messages.

It worried you at first, but you rationalized that she had other things to do with her life, and as much as you wanted to spend all your time with her, she couldn’t do the same. In fact, you didn’t know what she did with her spare time. You knew she loved her motorcycle, and probably ripped around on it a lot, but she had to have some way to pay for the gas and upkeep. Not to mention her rough group of friends to keep in control. It was like she was their logic or something. That, or she didn’t quite fit in. Which you didn’t mind, because it meant you didn’t have to worry about her getting arrested or getting in a bar brawl.

You spoke too soon, however.

Another boring day sat behind the register with only a small fan to keep company turned south when Lisa entered. Apparently, she didn’t have a motorcycle of her own or else you would have at least expected one of them to come waltzing in after the rambunctious noise.

At first, you were excited to see her. But then your smile faltered and any joke you had prepared on the tip of your tongue was quickly dissolved.

A nasty cut split her lip just above her labret piercing and gone was her usual hyper demeanor. She did grace you with a small smile at least as she stepped up to the counter, but then she was leaning on the glass display, holding her face in her hands with a low, drawn-out groan of discontentment.

“Lisa, are you okay?” you asked, concern lining your voice. She lifted her head and you could properly see her lip. It was totally busted but didn’t look too bad on her as far as attraction went. Sort of fit the rogue role you pinned her with. Probably still hurt like a bitch, though.

“Could be worse,” she muttered. A finger with chipped pink nail polish traced a lotto ticket underneath. “Could be  _better_. A fight broke out at the bar a couple nights ago. Pretty dicey shit.”

“What happened?” you pressed. You didn’t want to outright ask about Rosé even if that was really what you were trying to get at. It could have something to do with the reason why she hadn’t texted you back. Which you seriously hoped wasn’t true.

“Gang rivalries,” she digressed, leaning on one elbow to scan the mostly empty store before facing you again, as if it wasn’t supposed to be talked about in public. “It’s usually okay when they’re in the bar at the same time, but there were a few too many drinks that night and shit was said,  _blah blah blah_. It got out of hand fast, and some dude wanted to grab one of my bottles to make a fuckin’ shank — like he was still in prison or somethin’. I wouldn’t have it, he got mad at me, started grabbing at me, actually ripped my favorite shirt — asshole. But… uhm. Rosé stood up to him…”

Dread filled your stomach. It had to be written all over your face because Lisa reached out and took your hand, in a way that was much less flirtatious than in the past. 

“Don’t worry about her. She’s okay. Just banged up a little, but Jisoo has been taking care of her. Trust Jisoo, she’s a good one, a close friend of ours. Doesn’t involve herself with all that shit, just so happens to hang around Jennie a lot.  _A lot_.” There was a flash of the old Lisa you had seen at the bar in the way she winked at the innuendo, and even though you didn’t know either of the girls she spoke about, you still giggled at the gossip.

“I’m just picking up some cigarettes for Rosie,” Lisa said, back to business. She let go of your hand, which was nice. You didn’t want to have to reject her again. Instead, she twisted her piercing a little as habit, then flinched at the pain, as it appeared to be swollen since she got hit in the mouth. “She didn’t want me to come here and bother you about it, but I thought you should know anyway.”

“Thank you, Lisa. Seriously,” you replied, nodding earnestly. You knew where to look now to grab her Luckies from the compartments, but you stilled before handing them over. A market sat to the side, and you took it without questioning it. On the back of one of the packs, you stole a second to write a quick message.

_Get better soon… I miss you._

You tried to slide them across the counter for Lisa to have on the house just like she had done for you, but she refused. Unfurling your fingers, she forced a couple bills into your hand and then snatched the cigarettes before you could do anything else, jumping away with a cackle. She blew a kiss at you and you rolled your eyes, then she was out the door. It didn’t seem like there was much that could destroy that girl’s spirit completely.

There was no way you were going to be able to stop thinking about Rosé, though. Somewhere. Hurt. Laid up to rest. And then hopefully smiling when she finds your message on her cigarettes.

 

* * *

 

“Sir, I  _really_  can’t stay!”

Your boss actually stamped his foot like a toddler. And he was an older man, divorced and all.

“I have no one else willing to cover the shift, so you’re going to have to!” he insisted. He glanced at a small watch on his wrist like he was in a time crunch, and then waved at you. “It’s extra pay, you shouldn’t be complaining.”

“It’s a  _double_  shift,” you tried to explain. You were up bright and early and now you were tired, how hard was that to understand? “I have other plans. I actually have a life outside this job.”

“Well, if you want to  _keep_  this job, you’re going to stay,” he deadpanned. The argument was coming to a close and you were on the losing side. Fucking dickhead.

“Just put… that other guy on. It’s not like he does anything anyway, since all he does is sit on his phone here.”

“Y/N, I’m not going to do anything,” your boss spat, sliding his wallet into a pocket, preparing to leave. “You’re going to stay if you want your paycheck. Now, I have to go —”

You wanted to scream at him. He had you pulling ridiculous hours ever since you started working here some odd months ago. You were the only capable employee of this shitty convenience store, and the owner was never even around to take care of it himself — case in point. Was it really even worth all this trouble? There was a time you would have taken the punishment without a fight. Before, there wasn’t even a life to speak of. This would have been your whole life. But you didn’t want that anymore, and truth be told, you didn’t want this job either.

“You know what?” you snapped, bringing back the owner’s attention. There was a displeased expression on his face, like he’d rather be anywhere else. That wasn’t going to happen. “I fucking quit. You can take your stupid, ugly —” you yanked the polo over your head, leaving you in a thin camisole, and threw it at him. “Shove it up your ass! Maybe you’ll even fit it over that big head of yours that’s stuck up there too and  _wear it_!”

The rush of adrenaline had you feeling all flighty, but the look on the guy’s face was everything to you and you certainly didn’t want to miss even a second of it. He remained there, frozen, mouth agape. You prided yourself in this feat and felt more coming to the surface.

“That’s enough,” a voice said in your ear before you could continue. Fingers curled around the crook of your elbow, pulling you away. 

You knew who it was before you even had to look.

Outside, you swore in an exhale, kicking the ground as you walked to the black motorcycle waiting for you both. There went your last paycheck, and now you were wondering how you were going to pay for rent. You were about to swing over the back of the motorcycle when Rosé stopped you again, turning you to face her.

“Are you okay?” she asked, genuine concern in her voice and in the way she ducked her face in front of you to garner your attention. You were beyond relieved to see Rosé, even more so without a scratch from what you could see, but you were seething with frustration. Her hands ran up and down the sides of your arms in a soothing manner, her palms smooth. After a moment, she brought a hand to lift your chin up, meeting her eyes. “Hey, talk to me.”

“I’m fine, he didn’t do anything,” you muttered. The want to push her hand away from your face was present, but at the same time, you reveled in the fact she was showing so much affection. You really should be asking about how she felt after her fight, but she seemed far more focused on other things.

“Let’s get you out of here,” she said, reaching over to grab the spare helmet that was beginning to feel more and more like yours. “I know just the place, don’t worry. Just enjoy the ride, let it clear your head.”

You wordlessly took the helmet and clambered on behind her. Inside the store, you could see the owner arguing on his cellphone, arms gesturing around and in the air. It made you smile knowing you put him in a pinch just as willingly as he was going to throw you under the bus. Served him right. He looked up just as Rosé revved the bike, a vicious noise echoing in the lot, and you knew he could hear it. You waved, and he flipped you off, but you were already peeling off the cement.

The ride was a blur. You rested the side of your helmet against the back of Rosé’s jacket, listening to the way it chattered against the studs embroidered on this particular garment she wore today. It felt way more natural than the first ride did, and you didn’t even mind the fact that your hands were laced around her middle, resting just below her navel, a throwback to that drunken night. Every once in a while, her hand would drop and cup the outside of your knee, pressing you close like she was hugging you while she drove. You enjoyed the gesture but did nothing to return it. You saw the scenery change without processing it. All you were thinking about, so grateful about, was that you were holding Rosé again. After what felt like weeks that were just days, you were so ready to see her again. It had been too long.

You blinked and you had no idea where you were. Rosé slowed the ride, weaving up a small unkempt track, dense woods surrounding you. It was only afternoon, but it felt more like dusk here. A canopy stretched out overhead, casting shafts of sunlight sporadically upon the rocky road. Abruptly, Rosé swerved off to the side, rolling to a stop behind some brush.

“What are we doing here?” you asked after removing your helmet.

Rosé slid off her seat, helping you down, and then took off her own headgear. She did the same routine of fixing her hair and adjusting the ripped shorts she wore today, then answered you. “I brought you to my favorite place.”

You glanced around at nowhere in particular. The woods?

The puzzlement was written all over your face, and Rosé giggled. It was adorable enough to bring a smile to your face for the first time since she showed up, and you continued to look at her timidly excited expression as she took your hand and began to lead you through the foliage. After a few steps, you realized there was the faintest of paths, probably worn by Rosé herself. She didn’t say anything else, crooked smile in place. You were content just holding her hand for the first time, walking through the emerald trees. It was scenic, for sure. The sound of birds chirping, echoing through the vast space, the shuffle of leaves underfoot, a crack of a fallen branch. There was no one else around, just the two of you. The sudden realization had a spark igniting in your stomach, and you let your hair fall around your face to curtain your flushed cheeks.

The random appearance of an abandoned tennis court was totally unanticipated.

Nature had claimed it back for the wild. Vines tangled in the chain links, dirt and debris darkening the previous green texture of the court. The net was slashed rather than stolen, hanging limp at their respective posts. The singular umpire chair had been knocked to its side, splintered and covered in cobwebs. It was obvious that it had been long forgotten.

Except by Rosé. You could see as you approached the fence a section on one end of the court where someone had brought a broom and had cleared away a spot for a blanket. There was no doubt that she had planned this, for you or simply for herself.

“Where are we?” you whispered. For some reason, it felt like you had to.

“An abandoned development,” Rosé spoke. She brought you to a portion of the fence that had been cut and pried away. The thought of a delinquent Rosé showing up with a set of bolt cutters was oddly appealing. “Someone intended to build a luxury condominium out here, away from the bustle of the city, but it fell through a long time ago. I don’t know much else, but it’s been here since I can remember. It’s my favorite place to go to escape… everything.”

The way she finished had you casting a curious glance in her direction, but she didn’t bother meeting your eyes this time. There was that feeling that she was hiding something again, like she knew everything about you but refused to tell you anything about her. For once, it pecked at your heart, making you a bit angry.

Of course you couldn’t stay angry at her for long, and it dissipated the second she brought you to the blanket and motioned for you to sit. The blanket had to be cleaned regularly because it felt so plush underneath your hands as you folded onto it. Rosé joined you once you were comfortable, stretching out those long legs of hers and reclining back on her hands, sighing deeply. Her eyes fluttered closed and you were given the opportunity to just gaze at her. She was so stunningly beautiful, you wondered briefly how you ever ended up with her.

“I figured you could use this place too,” she whispered without opening her eyes. She looked so peaceful, and she was right. It was so quiet out here, save the natural sounds of the woods providing ambiance. You laid down on your back, arms tucked under your head, and gazed up at the sky. Despite having been overgrown, the trees hadn’t grown close enough yet to construct their canopy. There was the gentle warmth of the sun stretching to reach you in your little cove. It would be growing dark in a couple hours, and you mused about what Rosé would come up with to give you light.

“Are you feeling well?” she asked, interrupting you daydreaming. You nodded; no words needed. Above you, she smiled, turning her attention down to you. “You looked lost for a second. I guess you like it here.”

“I do,” you admitted, eyes shifting to her lips, then her eyes. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you for like, a week.”

At that she chuckled, looking away again, out to the distance. “Yeah, it’s all good. Just got involved with that dumb shit again. Like usual with those guys.” A finger poked you in the ribs, evoking a laugh. “I got your message — thank you.”

“I was worried,” you confessed. You didn’t want to hide how you felt when it came to hearing about how she was hurt. “Lisa said it was nasty.”

“Could’ve been worse.” Rosé shrugged. It was something they both said to you now. Just another casual occurrence apparently. “You never know what’s going to happen there. Tensions have been high recently, what with a lot of the gang members falling apart. Loyalty doesn’t mean much to people these days.” There was a pause and you swore you saw something flit across her features. “It means  _everything_  to me.”

“That’s because you’re a good person,” you stated, sitting up onto your forearms to garner her attention. All you got was a jagged swallow, as though what you said didn’t sit well with her. “You know that, right?”

Rosé looked at you suddenly, and before you could ask about the tears in her eyes, she was gasping out, “Am I really?”

“Why not?” you countered, the need to justify boiling in your chest. “You’ve been nothing short of… fuck, just  _amazing_  to me. I couldn’t care less about the people you hang around or any of that other shit. You’re a good person, Rosé.” You said it like you were trying to drill it into her head.

The red-blonde blinked back her tears, swallowing again, avoiding your gaze. She took a moment to breathe. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“I don’t need to!” You sat up the rest of the way, twisting to face her properly. Still, she didn’t meet your eyes. She was looking somewhere else beside you to keep from losing her composure. “I may not have known you for long, and I may not know a lot about your life, but I know how I feel when I’m around you. I  _trust_  you. You can tell me all about you, what you’ve done, what you plan to do, but whatever you say won’t change that simple fact.”

When Rosé looked at you again, it was with that look. That look, a concoction of amusement, surprise, and puzzlement — like she had you all spelled out in her head and you suddenly jumbled it all up. That look she gave you when you told her you didn’t like her smoking instead of keeping the opinion to yourself. That look when your facade gave a moment and she got to see that shy persona hidden away under the confidence you built with shaking hands. That look…

It was cut off by a bitter laugh, shoulders sinking, glancing at the sky.

“I have great parents,” Rosé started. It was your turn to be surprised, eyes widening a moment. “They’ve never done me wrong, but after everything I’ve done, I feel like I fall short of their expectations. Like I’ve  _failed_  them. They tried to give me the best life I could have, encouraged me to do well in my studies and with singing.” That was a neat little fact to tuck away. “It just seems like life has a different plan for me, no matter what they wanted. I guess I’m really easy to frame, put the blame on. It only got bad at the end of high school, and I started getting in fights with kids because they thought they were hot shit and would pick on people who couldn’t stand up for themselves. I have a soft spot for those people, like it’s ingrained in me to protect them. But of course, it made me look like the aggressor, and I would get in trouble for all of it.

“I’ve been arrested once, for aggravated assault. I can own up to that. But since that one time, I’ve vowed to stay out of jail. It wasn’t so bad, I was only in for about a month, and then had to do community service and pay a fuck-ton of fines. But I didn’t want to be known for that, someone people are scared of being around because I might fuck them up or something… I don’t know. I’ve never gone out of my way to hurt someone if they didn’t deserve it in the first place.”

It felt like there was more she was going to say but she stopped, and you were left in the silence to muddle over all she had just told you. It was a very brief overview, but it was more than you ever thought you’d know about her. Despite it, there was no sense of danger being around her. Rosé would never touch you like that.

“Oh,” she perked up. “I don’t do drugs. I mean, I’ve smoked pot in the past, but all I have nowadays are cigs. That’s for the others, not my style. I have my hands full of blood, not drugs.” Then she laughed, shaking her head, blonde hair highlighted by the low sunrays wisping around her face. “That sounded really bad.”

“I like it.” You hadn’t expected that to come out exactly, but it was true. And it was part of you speaking your feelings, not cowering behind your own thoughts. Rosé lifted her face, eyes shining, and offered you a weak smile. She sniffled and wiped at her nose, such a soft gesture in comparison to the story she had told you. You knew that wasn’t who she was beneath the leather and metal and smoke.

“Well, after it was all said and done, my parents  _didn’t,_  and I didn’t like disappointing them. So, I left. I didn’t want that on them, to deal with a daughter like this. I moved out here, falling easily into the wrong crowd. The only person who really kept me afloat was Jennie.”

“Jennie, the bar owner?” you interrupted.

“Yeah, random, I know,” she chuckled. “I was looking for work and Jennie was the only person who didn’t immediately turn me out on my ass by one look at my record. But she didn’t have any real openings for me. So, she made me her financial supervisor.”

“Whoa,” you breathed in astonishment.

“Yeah, I’m really good at numbers and stuff like that. With so much on her hands, owning just about the only bar that houses the roughest and rowdiest, she thought I could help her out with some side work, and that way, it would keep  _me_  out of trouble. She saw potential in me. And it really worked out. I’m often busy with her business and it’s a great job. She also really did need the help, so she’s happy I’m around. I’ve been with her for a while now. I met Lisa and Jisoo through her, the only girls — the only friends — I’m ever around a lot.

“Don’t get me wrong, they bring around their own drama. Especially Lisa. That girl’s a fucking whirlwind. You know she was there that night at the store?”

“She was?” You could hardly remember anything about that night besides Rosé. When you thought about it, it was always that first impression of the hardened girl walking through the doors and stealing your heart that you remembered.

Then you faltered.

Rosé really has stolen your heart, and you weren’t even privy to this obvious fact.

“Yeah, she walked in with me, remember?” Rosé tried to jog your memory, laughing lightly, unaware of the revelation you were going through. “She told me you were staring and I—”

In retrospect, you would never understand what came over you then.

The kiss was so sudden that you both never expected it. Your heart hammered in your chest so loud it was all you could hear right before you dove in. It was messy, unsaid words catching between your mouths, teeth crashing against each other’s, and you almost tumbled against her when your hand slipped off the material of her jacket on her shoulder. But it only served to throw your hand on top of hers on the blanket, and as soon as she registered what you were doing, her fingers laced with yours and a hand clasped the back of your head, holding you against her lips.

The kiss became something else. It was so much and not enough and everything you dreamt. The world fell away around you and all that remained was Rosé’s lips, that faint taste of smoke on them, how soft her skin felt against your cheek, between your fingers, how she tangled up your hair. And her moan that just escaped? You swore you sank further into her.

All this time you entertained your feelings for this bad girl.

But you didn’t know you would fall in love with Rosé instead.

When you opened your eyes again, it was nearly dark. Fading light in the colors of melting cotton candy tinted the horizon. The air was cool but you remained warm, blushing at how close you two had become on the blanket. One of Rosé’s legs had slid between your own, her entire body angled for you. You took a deep breath, the first to reach the depths of your lungs. Every kiss stole a little more air from you, leaving you dizzied. Adrenaline streaming through your veins acted like a drug that numbed anything that wasn’t Rosé.

There was so much that Rosé wanted to say, you could see it in her eyes. Nothing came forth and you knew the feeling of having it jammed in your throat, unable to say a word. The only thing she gave you was a smile, a genuine, unadulterated smile, and you knew there was one thing that you wanted to say to her.

“Rosé…” you whispered, feeling weightless. “I—”


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Rosé!_ ”

The spell broke. The two of you jumped like it was a gunshot instead of a shout. A part of you wanted to swoon over the way she leapt forward, instinctively placing her body in front of you for whatever was about to come, for whoever was screaming her name. But the moment two figures broke the tree line, rushing to the chain link fence, bone white fingers gripping the metal, she was scrambling to her feet.

It wasn’t a choice. You followed her, just like you knew now you always would. Whatever was about to happen, you weren’t letting her go alone this time. It scared the hell out of you the first time she disappeared for a week, and if — God forbid — something happened to her again, you weren’t sure what you would do with yourself.

“What the fuck is goin’ on?” Rosé demanded, pausing before the two girls on the other side of the fence. You didn’t recognize either of them, but one of them seemed to connect the dots as she regarded you.

“Oh, so you brought her here,” the girl mused, tilting her head with a curious smile that accentuated heart shaped lips. “I never thought anyone else would ever know about the tennis court, Rosie.”

You glanced at Rosé, watching her cheeks turn a cute shade of pink at the nickname. It was cute because it contrasted with the glower in her eyes.

“Jisoo, not now,” the other girl snapped. The harsh tone was undercut with a stroke of the girl’s dark hair, a strangely intimate gesture for the circumstance. “Rosé, we  _need_  you back at the bar. It’s getting bad and I don’t think Lisa has a handle on it at all.”

“Okay, let’s go.” Rosé wasn’t going to bother with any more questions, you could tell. You had so many, however. The girl now identified as Jisoo gave you another mysterious smile before Rosé was taking your hand in hers and ushering you towards the cut portion of the fence, peeling it back and pushing you through.

The girl you could assume was the infamous Jennie had also taken Jisoo’s hand and was now dragging her along back through the woods, on the same path you had just taken, like they knew it well enough themselves. Maybe the tennis court wasn’t as big a secret as Rosé was playing it up to be, but now was definitely not the time to confront her about it.

The four of you stole through the woods. It was generally a blur, and all you focused on was the tight grip Rosé had on your fingers while they discussed the poor cell service in the area and how Jennie hoped they wouldn’t be too late. You were afraid that soon enough, you would be holding her hand while the knuckles wept blood and her soft skin was bruised.

Gravel crunched under combat boots and your sneakers, and it was no surprise that another motorcycle was parked alongside Rosé’s. Only, theirs was a deep hue of purple that you only noticed when Jennie started the engine and the singular headlight flashed on. Together, you all hurriedly secured your helmets, and you were overcome with this feeling of belonging. You did fit in.

Rosé booted the kickstand and revved the engine the moment the ignition caught, a loud growl vibrating off the surrounding trees. It made you hesitate, much to your chagrin. And it wasn’t missed. A finger hooked onto your belt loop, pulling you close, and though the motorcycles would have drowned out anything she had to say, there was no need for it in the way she cupped the side of the helmet like she would your cheek. Wordlessly asking if you were okay. Eyes roaming your face, reading any signs. You gave a mute nod and then swung a leg over the back of the bike, making yourself comfortable against her back and clutching onto her waist. You reached up at the same time as Rosé to snap your respective visors shut. 

On the road waited Jennie, Jisoo draping over her shoulder lovingly. The impression you saw was that she was a relatively relaxed kind of character, heedless of the way that Jennie’s body was rigid and the situation weighing down on everyone’s shoulders. Jennie suddenly ripped off down the road and Rosé was quick to follow. You lurched against her as she sped off — not as practiced as Jisoo riding passenger — trailing the jetting vehicle, and as soon as you rounded one of the curves and had a bit of a stretch, her hand was on yours, fingers curling around at the wrist. It was hard to tell if they shook because of the ride or because of her nerves, but all you wanted was to kiss her again, tell her it would be okay, and that you would still love her even if you were to witness the side of her she never wanted to expose to you.

The entire ride was spent with your eyes closed. The helmet muffled the majority of the outside world, but when you were tuning it out, all you were left with was your uneven breathing. Why did it feel like the end? It was bad enough before that a fight caused Rosé to spend a week resting from whatever injuries she hadn’t yet shared with you, but now it had gotten to the point that Jennie, the bar owner, felt the need to track her down and beg her help.

What if she was hurt once it was all over? What if she was stabbed or even shot at? Your time together hasn’t been long at all, but all you knew was that you wanted more. You needed more time with her. There was still so much left to learn about each other, so much to discover together. The idea that it could all be stripped away from you created a panic that tasted like bile on the back of your tongue.

The advantage of having your eyes clenched shut the entire ride while simultaneously fighting off every scenario that could befall Rosé was that the ride was quick. That, or they broke far too many laws getting back to the bar tonight. The disadvantage was that you were about to face whatever had caused Rosé to be ripped away from you when all you wanted was to be consumed by her. Either way, you felt the bike swerve and somehow knew to expect the pothole that was about to jostle you —

Only it didn’t come.

The motorcycle jolted, braking abruptly instead. The pressure of the sudden stop pushed the air from your lungs against Rosé’s back, but there was something wrong with the way she was postured. Too rigid. Like she was forced to stop in her tracks.

You yanked off your helmet and clambered off the back in an instant, ignoring how it was still awkward for you and especially with Rosé frozen on the seat. The shafts of light provided by the motorcycles silhouetted four large figures that didn’t even bother to give you an ounce of their attention.

And then your blood slid like ice through your veins. 

In the middle, suspended between two men, was Lisa. The only thing that kept you from completely losing your mind at the sight was that she was still fighting. Despite the copious amount of blood on her face you had no idea was coming from where. When one of the other men attempted to approach, she gave a yell and reared up a leg. The heel of her boot pistoned forward, connecting strictly with the guy’s jaw.

After that, everything seemed to speed up. The line of a blade shone in the artificial light, unsheathed from a jacket pocket. A cry behind you caused all the hairs on your body to stand on end. Then there was adrenaline. Lots and lots of flight or fight instinct.

_Fight. Fight. Fight._

It was the same kind of thrill that you received the second you kissed Rosé. In a way, you understood her a little better now.

The gap between you and the knife closed. You slammed full force into the back of the attacker, reveling in the small victory of feeling him stagger underneath you rather than you bouncing off his bulk. You were wild and didn’t care for your own safety. The knife wasn’t just a warning but a threat, and while your heart drummed for Rosé, you weren’t about to watch another way a part of her would die losing Lisa.

The man under your hands started screaming, and you realized too late that in launching yourself onto his back, you had begun to gouge his eyes. Not  _out_ , per say, but something to distract him, to stop him, to buy Lisa a little more time.

Hands seized your back and you prepared for the worst. To be thrown against the brick, to be stomped underfoot into the dirty pavement, to face the outcome of your first and last fight. Whoever had a hold of you wasn’t letting go, tearing you away with more strength than you had to hold on.

You weren’t expecting it to be Rosé. You were forced around to face her, but only for a moment while her eyes scanned your form, and then she pushed you to the side. Effectively away from the brawl.

Whatever fray you had started, you saw her enter in your place. And not alone. Not a split second later and you watched Jennie and Jisoo follow. You weren’t practiced in fights and couldn’t understand how fast everything was moving. Between the large bodies of the men, you witnessed Rosé. Witnessed as she held an opponent at bay by their throat, and her fist sailed for their face. Their face gave first. Then Jisoo blocked your view as she kneed another in the stomach and he keeled over at the blow, air lost on him.

Where was the knife? You saw it discarded to the side behind a trash can, half submerged in grimy gutter water, and hoped it wouldn’t be found. There wasn’t any more room to think, even comprehend the bodies that roiled in the small alleyway, when Lisa stumbled out of it. You were immediately at her side, catching as she slumped against you with the majority of her weight. A hand ran over the side of her face, smearing blood over your palm, but you didn’t cringe away at the contact as you would have done in the past. You found the cut, a gash at her hairline, blood creating something not unlike a mask. Dark eyes met yours, swimming with consciousness and agony, and you knew now your role was to get her out of there.

You trusted Rosé.

The bar had emptied, miraculously. Whatever had broken out, Lisa had taken care of it. What was left was what you encountered in the alley. It was getting harder to support Lisa, who’s feet shuffled over the floorboards. You shoved your way through to the back of the bar counter, remembering something about pure alcohol working effectively on treating wounds against infections, and you sat her down on a small stool with a labored exhale. She leaned heavily against the counter, slowly lifting a hand to her mouth which she coughed into. A dribble of blood left her lips.

“Did they stab you?” You wanted to scream the question, a new fear you’ve never felt constricting your chest. Lisa shook her head.

“Busted my lip. Again.” At least she still had half a mind to crack a weak joke.

A couple rags, a liter of the highest proof of vodka you could find, and you were kneeling before Lisa. You brushed white hairs from her forehead that tried to stick to the blood and held it back as you swiped away with the rag. It wasn’t long before it was doused in crimson. You grabbed another, soaking a corner of it with the vodka, and dabbed at the cut. Your nerves jumped when she flinched, a hiss through her teeth, but she didn’t try to stop you. Probably couldn’t. It was with steeled vigor that you cleaned the wound and instructed her to hold a third rag there.

You were cleaning the cut in her lip, wondering how the scar was going to turn out after having the same spot wounded, when she started smiling.

“So,” she gravelled. You were happy to see a bit of light returning to her eyes now that she had a chance to rest. “Is now the appropriate time to make out a little?”

“Oh, sorry,” you mocked, smirking back and pressing a little harder with the rag to issue half a wince from the girl. “I don’t think you could handle me when you’re like this.” Lisa scoffed. “Plus, I kinda like this other girl, and she would  _kick your ass_  if she ever found out.”

“ _That_  — I can agree on,” Lisa laughed.

You tended to Lisa’s injuries the rest of the time you were both alone in the bar. It gave you two the chance to chat a little, when Lisa wasn’t resting with her head on the lip of the counter. She was lucky, honestly. They had jumped her as she kicked the last of the patrons out of the bar, throwing her towards the trash cans, where she had fallen and dashed her head on a lid. They weren’t much of a match, she informed, and she got a couple good hits in before they had her pinned. They were simply bigger than her. They had only punched her in the face once before you all had arrived, stopping them, but you were shocked to hear her whisper that she had been scared. Scared that it was going to be it for her.

That knife was still out there. If they rolled up a few seconds later, Lisa could have been gutted. The thought of Lisa dying terrified you more than you knew.

The back door of the bar creaked open. Lisa jumped in her seat, and you placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her. It made your heart ache to think that she would be traumatized by this. Fingers curled around yours in comfort as the last three filed in.

Rosé first. At the sight of you, she broke into a run around the back of the bar. She didn’t stop there, rushing into an embrace and knocking the wind from your lungs for the second time tonight.

“I’m good too, y’know,” Lisa’s deadpanned voice said from the background.

Instead of responding, Rosé pulled back only to then crash her mouth against yours. Whatever else Lisa had to say was drowned out by the relief of the kiss. It wasn’t long enough, and you actually gasped out loud when it broke, like she had taken the ability to breathe with her.

“Don’t  _ever_  do that again,” the strawberry blonde sighed, forehead pressed to yours.

“Speak for yourself,” you murmured. The smile in place felt circumstantially inappropriate but you just couldn’t feel any better than you did now having Rosé back in your arms.

“I need a drink.”

At the side, Jennie and Jisoo sat themselves at the bar, Jennie groaning wearily. You hoped they hadn’t been too injured from the fight, but a single glance only showcased their beauty. Both had ruffled hair, and Jisoo had a single, weak scratch on her neck and down her collarbone, like one of the men had tried to grab her. A bit of red stained Jennie’s t-shirt, but it didn’t appear to be hers. 

“Yeah, me too,” Lisa spoke up. She didn’t bother to stand, grabbing the bottle of vodka and attempting to pour a drink with a quivering hand.

“You get one and then you’re cut off,” Jennie commanded, standing on the pegs of the bar stool to reach over and snatch the bottle away. “Just enough for the pain and then Jisoo is taking you home.”

“Oh, is it my turn for the nurse, finally?” Lisa hummed, setting her chin on folded arms upon the counter. “Do I get the  _special_  treatment?”

“Sorry, baby,” Jisoo cooed back. “That’s only for  _special_  patients.” Even with the kiss on the cheek Jisoo gave to Jennie, the bar owner still glared at her bartender for the breach.

“Did you get the special treatment?” you whispered to Rosé.

“No. You weren’t there.”

The response had you blushing, and you looked up to her, mouth open to make a remark back, when you saw it. The blossoming colors of a black eye.

“Rosé!”

You lifted a finger to touch the dark ring, but she brushed your hand away before you could, taking your hand in both of hers instead. “It’s fine, I promise.”

“Yeah, it’s not like she was stabbed again,” Jisoo chimed in, clear liquid oscillating in her glass as she played with it absently.

“What?!”

“ _Jisoo!_ ” Rosé snapped, eyes wide. “I told you not to say anything about that!”

Jisoo shrugged nonchalantly, sipping her vodka. “I think she should know. Know how  _badass_  her girlfriend is.”

“I’m not —”

“Shut up,” Jennie barked, waving the three of you off. “You took her to the tennis court, it’s official.”

“Oh, you got to see the tennis court?” Lisa perked up, wiping the stray vodka from the corner of her mouth with the back of her ripped sleeve. “I’m not allowed to bring any girls to the tennis court!”

“Yeah, ‘cause you just wanna fuck ‘em,” Jennie rolled her eyes. “We all agreed the tennis court is a secret — only certain people are allowed to know about it.”

“And as Rosé’s girlfriend, I think she deserves to know she was stabbed,” Jisoo finished. Not on the note that Jennie would have liked by the expression on her face, nonetheless. No one said anything, including a very stricken you, but Jisoo continued. “It was just a little stab, no big deal. We’re just lucky it didn’t hit any major arteries or organs in her tummy.”

“Oh my God,” Rosé groaned in exasperation. You threw back the last of the vodka that Jennie had poured for you. “I think we’re going to head out.”

“No, stay for drinks!” Lisa whined, holding up hers.

“You’re not having another drink!” Jennie insisted. Jisoo felt the need to calm her anger with another kiss, this time to the corner of Jennie’s mouth. It worked, the other melting a little under the touch, and you smiled at the interaction.

“Gross,” Lisa muttered, turning her back to the sight and leaning against the counter. Another sip, and you didn’t miss the bit that slipped down Lisa’s chin.

“That’s our cue,” Rosé said to you.

You said nothing as the two of you left the bar. The vodka left a strong burn down your throat, leadening your limbs. It surprised you for some reason to see the vacant alley, the motorcycles still standing where you had left them. Your helmet lied on the ground beside the front wheel, like you had simply thrown it aside in order to join the fight.

“Are you gonna be okay to drive?”

Rosé perked up at the question, stopping her motions of turning the key in the ignition. With she faced toward you, you could see the faint circle around her left eye by the glow of the streetlight. Instead of the usual concern that would overcome you, you couldn’t help but gaze at her. The fight was over and you felt no different about her, only that she was somehow more beautiful than before. The bruise added to her bad girl persona and it only seemed to attract you more. Before she had the chance to answer your original question, you swept forward.

This time, the noise of satisfaction was definitely from Rosé. Your breath was stuck in your throat, just as you felt it always would be when you kissed her.

The two of you parted after a few beats, Rosé smiling down at you. “After that, I think I can manage.”

 

* * *

 

“ _Ah!_  Be gentle!”

“Who knew you were actually such a baby?” you teased, redirecting Rosé by the chin so you could place the ice pack back on her eye. Again, the girl winced, but didn’t try to jerk away this time. Once it was settled, she changed her gaze to you.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d have such a heavy hand,” she countered. Her uninjured eye fluttered.

“… What was that?”

“I was trying to wink.” Again, her right fluttered closed, and you laughed.

“That’s not a wink. And I think the correct phrase is ‘heavy foot’ and only applies when you’re driving.”

“I’m just gonna shut up now,” Rosé huffed. You could see the hint of a smile pulling at her lips despite all the teasing.

You bent to where she was sat on your couch and planted a sweet kiss on her lips. It left a bigger smile in the wake. You hovered the ice pack to glance at the bruise.

“It doesn’t look like it’s swelling too bad,” you informed, running a digit over the slightest welt beneath her lashes.

“It was just a random elbow,” Rosé stated. “They weren’t that hard to deal with. Just a lucky hit I guess.”

“I thought Jisoo didn’t involve herself in that stuff?” you remembered. You placed the ice pack tenderly on the eye.

“She doesn’t. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t know how to throw a punch. And if Jennie was about to get into it in front of her, Jisoo wasn’t going to stand around and wait for it to be over.”

That struck a nerve. You took a step back to give a proper glare to the blonde.

“What?”

“You didn’t let me help,” you said, throwing the ice pack onto the coffee table and crossing your arms. “You  _literally_  kicked me out.”

Rosé remained seated for a minute, then licked her lips and stood. Immediately, a static filled the air, making you uneasy, like you had done or said something wrong and were about to receive the repercussions of it. Then you noted how the girl seemed… anxious. There wasn’t an ounce of amusement or nonchalance that Rosé often embodied. And she wouldn’t meet your stare, even as she stepped up before you. A hand reached out to take yours, and you let her. Fingers laced together easily as though they were supposed to.

“You scared me.” That was not how you thought this was going to start. “When I saw you run in, I never felt more afraid about anything in my life. Not when I was arrested, not when I had my motorcycle crash,  _nothing_. All I saw was that knife getting you in the wrong place… and you would be gone. I just wanted you out of there. I never wanted you there in the  _first_ place.” She stopped, and you didn’t want to think about what that last sentence implied. Your chest felt too tight to breathe properly. All she did was cup your cheek, a sheen coming to her eyes like she was about to cry. “I love you. And I never want to lose you.”

You wondered if you were ever going to reach a point where Rosé no longer surprised you. For now, it didn’t seem very likely. But she didn’t stop there.

“Whoever  _you_  are,” she half sobbed, half laughed. Her thumb brushed your cheek. “I thought I had you all figured out from the moment I met you, but since then, you continue to astound me. Where I thought you would shy away, you proved me wrong. When I thought you’d want nothing to do with me, you showed me how much you cared. I used to think I’d be bad for you with my fucked up life and my shady bar with even shadier people, but instead — I think you’re good for me. You see right through me. At the tennis court, you said I’m a good person, that you trust me. Even after what I told you, after the way you see me, and especially tonight, you still think that… right?”

“Of course, I do,” you gasped out. Tears had collected in your eyes without your knowing. You hastily wiped away a stray tear before it could fall any further on your cheek. Rosé smiled meekly. “And… you aren’t wrong. About who I am. I spent most of my life observing, never involving myself in anything. I was  _boring_.”

“I didn’t say boring —”

You interrupted her by pressing an earnest kiss to her lips. And if it had been a fraction of a second longer, you would have forgotten the rest of what you had to say.

“I was. I was weak and content with just letting life pass me by. I wanted to get out of my comfort zone more, which is why I moved here. Just me, by myself, to become the person that I thought I could be. Then you came along, and it wasn’t so hard anymore to put myself outside my comfort zone because I knew you were going to be there on the other side. I knew it from the beginning. Even if you strolled in with a bunch of gang members and one of them tried to steal from me.” Rosé chuckled, sniffling that cute sniffle you’ve seen before. “I don’t think the girl I was in high school would have liked you… But  _I_  know that I love you.”

It was like the proclamation stole the air from the room. Rosé gasped inaudibly and didn’t bother with wiping the tear that finally fell. All you could do was stand there, holding her hand, gazing into her beauty, and then she was kissing you. It was a kiss unlike before. It didn’t hold the same passion or vigor but wrapped you up in a different sensation.

You’ve never been in love but you’re pretty damn sure this was what it felt like.

It was salty from the tears you couldn’t tell were yours or Rosé’s. It was soft, her lips caressing yours like they intended to spell out rather than say how much she wanted to hear that. It was warm, her face so close, her body fitting to yours, her hands everywhere — your face, your neck, your hair, down your back and elsewhere.

It was everything.

The world spun and you collapsed on top of her. She held you in her lap, arms like a vice around your waist like she never intended to let you go. Your fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of her neck and you marvelled at how soft it felt, how nice it was to twirl it up around your knuckles and gently tug. It earned a soft groan which effectively ended the kiss, much to your dismay.

“As much,” she gasped the second your lips parted. “As I like this new you and everything, I want you to know that I love  _every_  part of you, including this girl you’re pushing out of her comfort zone. And I was hoping I could implement a rule that I think the old you would appreciate?”

“Which would be…?” you hummed, fingers still tangled up and wanting nothing more than to hear that noise from her again.

“No more doing stupid shit like trying to fight guys at the bar,” she breathed out as you scratched her scalp, eyes slipping shut. Her mouth hung slightly agape at the end, enjoying the new treatment she was receiving. You had to admit it had you slightly intoxicated seeing her like this.

“If you insist,” you agreed, leaning to catch her plush bottom lip between your teeth. After a simple nibble, you let go, and revelled in the surprised — dare you say, mildly lustful — expression left for you in Rosé’s features. “But I know something that you’ll like better instead.”

Without waiting for an answer, you arched away from her grasp. It was cute the pout that came to her lips, but it was quickly removed. You sought the hem of your shirt and then pulled it over the top of your head in one fluid motion. Leaving you in your simple black bra. Which captured all of Rosé’s stunned attention.

You grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her into a deep kiss, effectively shifting the atmosphere from loving to something more primal. If you were being honest, this was about as far as you had ever gone with another partner, but when it came to Rosé, it was like you knew what you were doing.

She responded without skipping a beat, mouth sliding along yours. Fingertips danced along your spine until they met the bridge of your bra, hesitating over the latch. It was a pause that begged for permission, and you rolled your hips into hers to imply it was more than okay. She took the cue, easily pinching the material and you felt it loosen around your ribs. Without breaking the kiss, you slung it down your arms and away somewhere.

When her hands feathered around your sides and one of them cupped your breast, narrowly missing your peak between her thumb and forefinger, you moaned at the anticipation. It was all so delicious, so new. You wanted Rosé everywhere, to feel every inch, to become putty under her touch. It had to be obvious because the next moment was a whirlwind as she suddenly pressed you down into the couch atop you. The weight of her body was so heavenly to have, and you couldn’t stop the noises if you wanted to. Things had hardly begun, and it already had you believing you were about to burst.

The kiss broke only to have her mouth on your neck, a hand tilting your jaw up, nails scratching at the hairline behind your ear. The attention sent a wonderful shudder through your body, grasping at the threads of her shirt, just wanting skin on skin. This time, she didn’t oblige. Instead, she traversed down your neck, teeth nicking at your collarbone before soothing with a lave of her slick tongue. She didn’t stop there, sliding down your body until you gasped at her kiss on your nipple, so tender and tentative that you thought you might just lose it there and then.

A growl bubbled up the back of your throat as you yanked on Rosé’s shirt. All you received was a chuckle, and then she finally sat back on her folded legs, an entirely new gaze unlike any before trained on you as she removed an article of clothing. You were speechless at the expanse of creamy skin, and then abruptly choked.

“Your stomach!” you breathed. Rosé didn’t move and you reached out to trace the lightest of a touch along the inch long slit off-centered on her lower abdomen. It was going to leave a nasty scar, as it probably deserved stitches but the only one who tended to it was Jisoo. Now without the need for a bandage, it was on full display to you, a rough ridge blemishing the girl you loved. It was without warning the way tears sprung to your eyes again.

“Baby, it’s okay,” Rosé whispered, taking your hand and drawing it back behind your head to pin on the cushions. It wasn’t such a lustful move so much as it was her leaning into you to remove the sight and have you focus on her eyes. Her beautiful eyes. She kissed you softly, embedding the honesty.

Still, even with the pet name that sent a thrill to the heart, you felt like you were about to cry. Rosé respected the fact and didn’t attempt to further the direction you two had been headed in. After a moment, you swallowed whatever grief you had built up, sighing lowly against her.

“We don’t have to do this,” Rosé murmured against your lips. “It’s been an emotional rollercoaster tonight; I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret tomorrow.

“The only thing I’ll regret is not waking up next to you tomorrow,” you insisted immediately. Your hands fumbled down her stomach, afraid of hurting her, until you found the button of her shorts. Again, Rosé’s mouth dropped but she let you undo her bottoms. When the time came, she kicked off the material, and it seemed to put her back into gear. The kisses started off short and sweet, slowly working into something deeper and hotter. Then she was shimmying your bottoms off as well. The moment her fingers flirted around your underwear, a single word escaped from deep inside you.

“ _Please_.”

Not entirely lost in the moan that was drawn out of you with a wonderful stroke of Rosé’s fingers —

“I love you.”

 

* * *

 

A chill swept across the exposed flesh of your torso, rousing you from your sleep. It was much too cold, and a simple search of your arms around you proved that you were left alone on the couch.

Your initial reaction was that Rosé abandoned you. That last night was really just a mistake. That this was all in your head.

But it really was all in your head because it was dispelled the second you smelled tobacco.

You sat up, gathering up the flimsy blanket you two had found… at some point… around your chest against the breeze. Across the room from you, the singular door to the sad excuse of a balcony was open. Faded strawberry blonde hair fluttered in the wind, and for the first time, you realized that her hair was actually a much deeper color at the roots than portrayed. It was nice to learn something new about her, you smiled to yourself. A hand fell from her face and you could see the cherry on a fresh cigarette from around her arm, crossed on the railing she leaned on.

Wanting to cherish this undisturbed speculation, you remained in your spot. Of course Rosé wouldn’t have simply up and left you the morning after. All she wore was an oversized t-shirt, and your heart swole when you saw the video game logo on the back, making the article one of yours. Which meant that before she had gone outside, she had gone into your room and helped herself to something that belonged to you to wear.

Interrupting the reverie, you watched Rosé lift the cigarette again, only to hold it out before her. It was as though she was debating something with herself, and then it disappeared again behind her silhouette as she smoked.

It was strangely attractive to you now, this vice. As much as you didn’t want her to smoke anymore because of how harmful it was, it suited her and her character. Just maybe you could live with it.

But now you couldn’t wait anymore. Rosé still hadn’t noticed you had woken up, and you were ready to see her face again. The blanket formed a dress and you stood up, shuffling along the carpet. Only when you got just within reach of the doorframe did she finally hear you.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Rosé greeted, turning to lean her side against the railing.

God, she was the one who was beautiful. Her hair in disarray worse than a bike ride, makeup mostly worn away, and you blushed at the love mark on her neck that you didn’t remember putting there.

“Don’t come any closer,” she suddenly warned, holding out a hand to stop you from passing through onto the small balcony. She held the cigarette further away over the precipice. “I don’t want you near this.”

“Why? I’m going to be near you later,” you teased, pushing now against her hand on your chest.

Rosé smirked and then flicked the unfinished stick over the balcony. You gave an incredulous sound that was cut off by the girl grabbing your blanket and pulling you into her arms.

“You don’t like cigarettes, remember?” she recalled. You wanted to kiss her, but she was still holding some space between your faces. “I don’t think you’d like me right after I had one.”

You jumped forward before she could do anything to kiss her earnestly. Yes, the smoke was harsher than you had ever experienced it, and yes, it did make you feel a little sick. But it was worth it.

“Wow, you didn’t even let me finish,” Rosé jested.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you responded. She giggled and kissed your nose.

“I was going to say — I don’t think you’d like me after I have a cigarette… which is why I’m going to try and quit.”

“What, really?” you sputtered, eyes wide.

“Yes, really,” she insisted, smiling that crooked smile you loved. “It’ll be hard, I’m not going to lie. I’m going to have to do it in small steps because I know I can’t just stop cold turkey.”

“But I thought you were all big and bad; what’s a little addiction gonna stop you?”

“I don’t have to pretend with you,” she simply said. Then added all smug, “I’ll just tell everyone I stopped cold turkey, but really, I’ll have my cheat cig here.”

“Here?” you caught, giving her a suspicious stare.

Rosé hummed, pink coming to her cute cheeks. “If you don’t mind? I mean, I could bring you to my place but I’m afraid it’s quite lacking.”

“So you’re saying that either way, I’m going to be wherever you are?”

“… If that’s okay?”

All you needed to say was summed up in a kiss you held to her lips. Even in the motion, you could feel her smiling.

“What’s your real hair color?” you asked after a minute of silent cuddling and stolen kisses. 

Rosé laughed aloud. “It’s much darker than this. Basically black. And it’s hella expensive to keep this dye job looking authentic.”

“Maybe you should let it go.”

“Do you know how ugly that would look? It already looks bad enough if you can tell it’s not my real hair color.”

“I meant go back to your natural color. I think it’d look sexy.”

Rosé narrowed her eyes at you, thinking. “Anything else you’d like for me to change for you, baby?”

“No,” you chirped. “I love you for who you are, natural hair and healthy habits and all.”

“Fine,” she sighed, unable to stop her smiles. “I guess that was a smooth recover. Maybe I will. It’d save me a lot of money.”

“Money you could use for your bike… or to take me on a date.”

“I’ve taken you on a date! Maybe you should take me on a date.”

“I’m gonna need a job.” You kissed her on the nose this time.

“I can help you out there.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> i accidentally deleted the original request from anonymous, i apologize! it was essentially asking for a scenario between rosé and a female reader where rosé is all cool and tough and indifferent but then her attitude changes completely once she meets the reader and she’s not afraid to show it
> 
> this is my proudest work to date, and i'm excited to continue sharing it with world! :)


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